My Missing Piece
by Oceana24
Summary: The cute (I hope) tale of how the Professor and (LEGAL!) Luke fall in love. Adventure to come, along with some more risque chapters. Rated M for this reason. My first story on here, so please be kind if you review! And please do review!
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1**

_The Golden Garden: A Study of the…._

*snore* A loud snort interrupted the scratching of Hershel Layton's pen on a piece of scrap paper.

Layton looked up from his rough draft, smiled absent mindedly at his apprentice snoozing in the arm chair across the room, and attempted to continue writing the paper that had eluded him for years now. Usually, Layton was much more prompt in publishing his findings, but what with all the mysteries he'd had to solve between that first fateful trip to Misthallery and the present, he'd barely had any time to return to that little town to study the Golden Garden further until recently.

*snore*

Sighing, Layton dropped his pen and leaned back in his chair, putting one arm behind his head. Not the most gentlemanly look in the world, he knew, but Luke was sleeping. There was no one conscious to be an example for at that moment.

*SNOOORE*

Layton chuckled to himself as he watched the young man sleeping. He had known Luke snored since he began staying with him as a child and would fall asleep during rides in the Laytonmobile, but the ferocity with which he snored never failed to amuse the Professor. His mind began to wander to the weeks previous, when he and Luke were in Misthallery, finally finishing up some excavations in the Garden. Luke was so enthusiastic about becoming an archaeologist, and Layton loved that about him. He smiled to himself as he remembered Luke's excitement when he ran over to the Professor to show him an ancient piece of pottery he'd found. It was almost child-like fervor, despite Luke now being a young man, and an official Gressenheller student studying under Layton.

The Professor's smile broadened as her remembered how hard Luke worked to dig up so many priceless artifacts, how he'd take off his hat to wipe his brow, how he'd sweat through his shirt in the hot sun almost everyday and would have to remove it, how his back and chest glistened…

Whoa… Layton jumped a bit, startled that his thoughts about his apprentice, his friend, had gotten so off course. Ashamed and puzzled by his own mind's workings, Layton couldn't pretend that this was the first time he'd had some inappropriate thoughts about the lad. During Luke's childhood, his feelings for the boy were completely innocent, and almost paternal. He'd wanted to protect Luke, and provide him with the closeness he knew Luke and his father, Clark, never really shared. But as Luke matured, so, it would seem, did the Professor's feelings for him.

The first time Layton could remember thinking Luke was attractive was about a year ago, right after the boy's 17th birthday. Even then, Layton's thoughts were not totally inappropriate. Hershel Layton was a gentleman, and as such, he had an appreciation for beautiful things. He merely took note that Luke had developed quite handsomely. His facial features had become more defined, and he was really quite striking. He'd gotten taller, just a hair shorter than Layton himself when he wasn't wearing his famous hat, and his body had gone from slightly plump, to lanky and gangly, to nicely toned.

Feeling somewhat confused by his observation, but not disturbed, Layton had pushed the thought to the back of his mind, and his relationship with Luke had remained normal and friendly for the next several months. Layton hadn't questioned his feelings at all since then…that is, until he and Luke got to Misthallery.

Their excursion was supposed to include Flora, as she was beyond excited at the prospect of getting to see the Golden Garden. Unfortunately, her studies at Gressenheller, and her job at the University's library prevented her from being able to go. Layton had promised to take her back next year, once she had gotten her degree. So it was just he and Luke, as it had been so many times before. There should have been nothing different or special about this trip…but there was.

They had set to work in the Garden on their second day in Misthallery. As always, Luke was very excitable, eliciting chuckles from Layton as he scampered through the Garden, asking about a million questions a minute. Layton set him up with a shovel and brush, and stood back to watch him work. This was the first time the Professor found his eyes wandering over Luke's body not so much in proud, fatherly admiration, but with a hint of desire. Layton shook himself from his reverie, and knelt down to join his student in their hunt for ancient treasures. He was glad there was something other than his young friend that he could focus on.

From that day on, Layton noticed that he had to keep his thoughts about Luke in check. He couldn't understand what had brought on this barrage of mental naughtiness. Perhaps it was something in the air in the Garden. But being the logical man that he was, Layton knew that probably wasn't the case. He just refused to admit that he had developed a crush on his apprentice. He couldn't have a crush on a 17 year old boy. That was just wrong on so many levels. And yet, there it was.

***O***

Luke had celebrated his 18th birthday in Misthallery. Layton, always prone to spoiling the boy, took him to dinner at the village's fanciest restaurant. He had made a special request of the chef that a chocolate cake (Luke's favorite) be brought out at the end of the meal. Though Layton managed to keep it together throughout the main course, he was a bit tipsy from the glass of wine he'd drunk by the time the cake arrived. Luke had laughed as the Professor stood up, announced to the other patrons that it was his friend's birthday, and sang a rousing chorus of "Happy Birthday". Before sitting down, Layton leaned down, put his arm around Luke's shoulder, whispered, "A very happy birthday to you, my dear boy," and kissed Luke on the cheek. Luke looked taken aback for a moment, then smiled a wide, giddy, almost mischievous smile. He grabbed Layton's hand, looked him dead in the eye, and said quietly and earnestly, "Thank you, Professor."

***O***

That night in their shared hotel room, Layton couldn't sleep. He was embarrassed by how he'd acted in the restaurant, and couldn't stop replaying the scene in his mind. He had been tipsy, but he was nowhere near drunk enough to kiss Luke, even on the cheek, and have it be ok. Would it have been ok if he were more plastered? No, of course not. But the way Luke smiled after the kiss…the way he'd held his hand and looked into his eyes…it was almost painful for Layton to remember. He was filled with so much desire, and so many competing thoughts and emotions. His own feelings were the one puzzle to which Layton could never quite figure out the answer.

Layton sighed, and his sigh was met with a soft, "mmm" from the next bed. He peeked over to his left, and his gaze was met by a bleary-eyed Luke.

"Something wrong, Professor?"

"No, no, nothing at all, my dear boy. Did I wake you?"

"No. Just a bit of indigestion I think. That dinner was delicious, but awfully rich, and I ate way too much. You spoil me, Professor." Luke absent mindedly rubbed at his belly. It was clear from the look on his face that he was in a bit of discomfort, but he didn't look extremely ill.

"Think nothing of it, Luke. And I apologize if it made you sick."

"I'll be fine." There was a pause. Normally, the two could sit in comfortable silence, but this lull in the conversation was pregnant with awkwardness. "Uh, Professor," Luke said, looking timid, "would you, uh, rub my stomach? You know, like you used to when I was little and didn't feel well?"

Against his better judgement, Layton sat up, pulled the covers away, and patted the bed. A shirtless Luke scampered quickly from one bed to the other, and lay next to Layton. Both men knew this sleeping configuration probably wasn't the most appropriate, but Luke seemed to have some kind need, and damned if Layton wasn't going to do whatever he could to make sure Luke got what he needed. He always had, and if he had his way, he always would.

Layton lay down next to Luke, and propped himself up on his elbow. He placed his hand on Luke's stomach and began rubbing in soft circles. Luke pulled the blanket up over them both, and nestled into the pillow. Layton was growing evermore uncomfortable, but he wanted Luke to feel better. After a few minutes, the boy looked up at the Professor, and Layton could see that same glint of mischievousness in his eyes that was evident in his smile at dinner. Luke placed his hand on top of the Professor's and said, "Thank you, I feel much better now."

"Happy I could help." Layton smiled back at Luke. The younger man started to move, and Layton thought, with some relief and some sadness, that he was heading back to his own bed. But to his surprise, Luke merely rolled over on his left side, facing away from Layton. The Professor watched as Luke's breathing became rhythmic, and figured the boy had fallen asleep. He waited for the loud snoring to start, but instead what he heard was an almost imperceptible, "I love you."


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

*SNOOOOOOOOOORT COUGH COUGH*

Layton was wrenched away from his memories of Misthallery by one final humongous snoring fit emanating from the armchair across the room. Being pulled from his warm thoughts was reminiscent of the way he had to pull himself out from under Luke that next morning in the hotel room. Sometime during the night, Luke had rolled over and come to rest with his head on Layton's shoulder, and his arm sprawled across the older man's chest. Layton had awoken first that morning, and delicately removed himself from the situation. He didn't mention it to Luke, lest he make him uncomfortable. He also didn't mention that he had in fact heard the "I love you". If Luke knew that the Professor heard what he'd said and didn't respond, it would have hurt him deeply. Somewhere deep down, Layton knew that.

Layton quickly picked his pen up and tried to get back to work. Luke sat up and rubbed his eyes.

"Wake yourself up, did you, my boy?" Layton teased good naturedly without looking up from his paper.

"Hmm? Was I sleeping?" Luke mumbled somewhat incoherently. He smacked his lips a few times and yawned before getting up, stretching, and walking over to Layton to see was he was doing. The Professor felt a flash of heat when Luke moved next to him. The fact that Luke placed his hand on Layton's shoulder as he peered down at the paper wasn't helping either.

"Aw, Professor! You said you wouldn't start the paper without me!" Luke pouted endearingly. Layton tried not to notice.

"I didn't exactly start, Luke. Besides, you've been asleep for the past two hours. I've already had nearly four cups of tea. I wasn't sure what else to do with myself." Layton hoped Luke didn't find that statement nearly as pathetic as he did. A grown man that is basically lost without his 18 year old student…

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep. How about I make us dinner, and afterward we can both work on the paper."

"That sounds perfect, my boy. What shall we have? I'll help you make it."

"No, I want to make it for you myself, Professor. I just found a great new recipe for stir fry, and I think we have everything here I need, except some ginger."

"No worries, lad, I'll run out and buy some." Layton followed Luke out into the kitchen and grabbed his keys and his hat. He had a strange compulsion to kiss Luke goodbye, and started toward him, but by the time he reached the boy, he had come to his senses. In the end, the Professor awkwardly patted Luke on the shoulder, swiftly turned around, and muttered, "See you in a bit, Luke."

The young man watched his mentor through the window as he strode quickly through the brisk London evening air to the Laytonmobile. He sighed with a mixture of contentedness and longing, and smiled as he set about chopping vegetables and meat for their dinner. "See you soon, love."


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

When Layton arrived back at his and Luke's flat, he could smell the scent of cooking chicken and vegetables before he even opened the door. He inhaled deeply, and unlocked the door.

"Oh good, you're back," Luke said as he flashed a winning smile toward the man in the doorway. "I'll be needing that ginger in a second. Would you mind grating some for me?"

"Of course not, dear boy. How much do you need?" Layton asked, taking the ginger root he had purchased out of the paper grocery bag.

"Not much. A few pinches."

Layton tied on an apron and stood at the counter beside Luke, who was busily stirring a pot on the stove. He shot the young man a sideways glance and a little grin, and started grating the ginger. Luke smirked back at him, and nudged him with his elbow. A few nudges back and forth later, Luke burst out laughing.

"What has gotten into you?" Layton was now laughing himself. "What is so funny?"

Luke flashed his brightest smile yet as he added the ginger to the pot. "I don't know, Professor. It just struck me funny, you standing there in a suit coat and your hat and an apron. You just seem out of place." Luke snickered some more, and turned off the stove. He grabbed some plates and silverware and began setting the table.

"A proper gentleman wears his hat in every circumstance," Layton announced proudly. Luke gave him an eyeful of skepticism. How many times had he heard this before? "Except during dinnertime. Of course, you're correct, Luke." Layton took off his hat and hung on the hook by the back door along with his coat and apron.

Luke looked approvingly at the Professor. "That's better," he said as he gently brushed a stray hair off of Layton's forehead, and returned to setting out the dinner plates. The older man hoped Luke hadn't noticed how he'd shivered at his touch.

Layton couldn't help stealing a glance at his apprentice's behind as Luke leaned across the table to place a glass in front of his plate. He averted his eyes as soon as Luke started to turn around, silently chastising himself all the while for being a pervert. But he didn't look away fast enough. Luke did indeed see Layton's wandering gaze, but was determined not to let on. He sat down calmly at the table with Layton.

In truth, it tickled him pink to think that the Professor was attracted to him. He'd desired his mentor in some fashion for years now, but being that he was a child, he knew that it could never work out. But things were changing, and Luke could sense it. He was 18. People may not look favorably upon him for having a relationship with his male teacher who was many years his senior, but at least it was legal. He'd been dropping hints to Layton about his true feelings for awhile, and during their trip to Misthallery, on the night of his birthday, he finally received a bit of reciprocation. Had Layton been waiting for that day to show how he felt about Luke? If so, should Luke be concerned that Layton had fancied him when he was a child? Somehow, Luke didn't think that was the case. He'd only ever felt safe with the Professor, and that was one of the reasons he loved him.

He loved him? He loved him. He was in love with him. When Luke had mumbled the phrase in bed in Misthallery, even he wasn't sure how he meant it. But now he was certain. He was in love with Hershel Layton, and wanted to spend his life with him. The thought startled the young man out of his reverie, and he realized he'd been sitting at the table with a mouthful of unchewed chicken, not listening to a word the Professor had been saying.

"Luke, are you alright?" Layton looked at him with concern.

"Yes. I'm sorry Professor, my mind was somewhere else. What were you saying? Something about your hat?"

"Oh, it was nothing. I was just saying that Claire always had to remind me to take my hat off for dinner too…" The Professor trailed off. Talking about Claire still wasn't easy. And he felt silly for comparing Luke to her. It's not as if Luke was his fiancé…not yet anyway.

Luke honestly hated when the Professor spoke of Claire, but not out of jealousy. He hated to see the pain behind Layton's eyes. It was all he could do to hold back tears, and he wasn't even the one that lost the love of his life. Layton looked so sad at that moment that Luke couldn't stop himself. He reached across the table and took Layton's hand in his own. It was somewhat rough, but pleasantly warm. He squeezed it, and the Professor squeezed his back.

"Professor , I-" Luke began.

"Luke, my boy," Layton said softly, "we've known each other for so long, I think it would be appropriate for you to start calling me Hershel outside the classroom." Layton's thumb was caressing the back of Luke's hand, and sending shivers up the young man's spine.

"Hershel," Luke began again, leaning in closer to his mentor, "I can't bare to see you so upset when you think of Claire. Isn't there anything I can do to help you?"

Layton didn't answer. Instead, he leaned forward, and Luke knew this was it. Hershel Layton was going to kiss him. He moved to meet Layton's lips with his, but they never touched.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

There was a sudden knock at the door, and the Professor jerked away to try to see who was waiting to be let in.

Through the sheers over the kitchen window, he could just make out a female form bouncing impatiently on her toes on the porch. The figure noticed Layton peeking through the curtains, and leaned around the corner of the house to wave energetically at the Professor.

With a sigh of all too obvious disappointment, Layton announced, "It's Flora. Did you invite her to dinner?"

Luke rested his head in his hands. "No, sir, I didn't."

"Oh. Well then." Layton cleared his throat and opened the door. "Flora, my dear!" His greeting was met with arms flung around his neck, and a big kiss on the cheek.

"Professor! Luke! You're back from Misthallery!" Flora squealed as she swept into the kitchen to give Luke a hug.

"Hi Flora! How are you?" Luke said merrily, and silently congratulated himself for not sounding miffed that what could have been the best moment of his life got interrupted.

"I'm fine! I'm sorry to spoil your dinner, but I just couldn't wait until tomorrow to come see you both. I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not, my girl. Would you like some of Luke's delicious stir fry? We have more than enough." The Professor was also doing a good job of hiding his frustration. Too good, Luke thought. Did he have to ask her to stay? The young man shot the Professor a look that hoped would say what he was feeling, but Layton just kept on smiling and being the proper British gentleman that he was. Luke didn't know whether to be angry, or to think it was the most adorable thing in the world, so he kept his mouth shut and tried to be polite.

This proved to be quite the challenge. By the end of dinner, Luke was so bored of listening to Flora's stories of her travails at the university library, that he completely tuned her out. He felt badly that he was most certainly not acting like a gentleman, but he had more important matters on his mind. Like the Professor. The Professor's eyes. His lips. His hands. The way he genuinely interested in everyone and everything around him. That dazzling intellect that Luke had always found so sexy. Mmmph. Luke had had his fill of food, but his mouth was still watering.

It was then that Luke decided to try his hand at a little footsy. He slowly and discreetly (he hoped) stretched his leg out under the table until he felt his foot hit something, and started moving it up and down. Luke didn't look across the table at Layton, but he heard him clear his throat. Smiling to himself in a satisfied way, he decided to try to get a better angle with his other foot. This time the Professor didn't clear his throat. In fact, he didn't respond at all. When Luke looked up, he found him laughing with Flora about something. Luke tried again. Nothing. Just more chuckling from the Professor and a rather red-cheeked Flora. With a tiny sigh, Luke gave up and retreated into himself to sulk.

The sound of a chair scratching across the floor brought him back to the present. Flora stood up and said, "Well, Professor, I really must be going. It's late, and I'm due at the library early tomorrow morning."

The Professor got to his feet as well. "Oh, what a shame," he said earnestly.

"Don't worry, I'll stop by over the weekend for some tea."

"That sounds lovely. Doesn't it, Luke?" Layton nudged Luke to signal that he too should get up and help him see Flora too the door.

"Yes. Very lovely," Luke mumbled. Layton cleared his throat again, and Luke automatically plastered a smile on his face. "Can't wait."

"Let me get your coat, dear," Layton said. He headed to the living room where Flora had put her scarlet pea coat, while Luke and Flora walked to the door. When they got there, Flora put her hand on Luke's arm.

"Luke," she said softly, "you know I've always thought of you as sort of a little brother…"

Luke looked baffled. "Yes…" He honestly had no idea where she was going with this little speech.

"Well, I know you were flirting with me during dinner…you know, under the table." Luke's eyes went wide. He turned white as a ghost, and then red as a tomato.

"No, Flora I-" He didn't get to finish before Flora interrupted him. He didn't know what the ending to that sentence would have been anyway, so it was alright.

"You don't need to be embarrassed, love," she said sweetly. "You really have grown into a fine young man, but that's just the problem. You're still just a bit too young for me. But my goodness, you are attractive." She looked him up and down. "Who knows what will happen in a few years." She proceeded to take his hand and pat it. "Until then, let's just try not to let things between us grow too awkward."

Layton walked up cautiously, as he'd been observing their conversation from the doorway of the living room. "Everything ok here?" he asked, handing Flora her coat.

"Oh yes," she smiled. "I was just telling Luke how delicious his stir fry was. I really must get your recipe." Luke didn't respond, so Flora kissed him on the cheek, then turned to Layton, and did the same to him. "I'll see you both soon," she chirped as she stepped out the door. "Ta!"

"Good evening, Flora," the Professor said, waving.

"Yes, goodbye, Flora," Luke said rather sarcastically. He slammed the door. "And good riddance."


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

Luke leaned his head against the closed door with a disgruntled and deliberate "ugh".

The Professor put a comforting hand on the young man's back. "Luke, be kind. You can't expect everyone to feel the same way about you that you feel about them."

Luke stepped back, as Layton had hit him. "What?! Professor, I don't feel that way about Flora-"

"I know you don't, Luke."

"I feel that way about you!" Silence. "What the hell do you mean, you know?!"

Layton chuckled. "You did kick, or rather _footsy_ me the first time, my boy." Luke was so red by this point that Layton was afraid smoke would start emanating from his ears. He rubbed the young man's back in an effort to soothe him. "I was hoping you'd say as much earlier. A few well chosen words always surpass a kick in the leg, my dear."

Luke grew slightly less tense. He found it hard to look the Professor in the eye, but he was tired of all the dodging and hinting. "Well then here goes…I love you, Professor…Hershel…" He reached for Layton's hand, and was thankful when the Professor did not pull it away. "I think I have from the moment you came to my house in Misthallery."

Layton sighed and closed his eyes. No matter how happy his heart was to hear those words, he knew that a romantic relationship with Luke wouldn't work out. It just couldn't. Could it?

He guided Luke to the couch and sat down with him. Never letting go of his hand, Layton turned and looked deep into Luke's shining, hazel eyes. There he saw pain, but also hope. Most of all, he saw love.

"Luke…I've loved you for quite some time as well. I don't know that I've ever been able to put a name to the kind of love I've felt for you…especially recently…but I want you to know that I care very deeply for you." Luke looked somewhat relieved. "But, my dear boy, I don't think the kind of relationship you want is possible. At least, not right now."

Obvious disappointment spread over Luke's face, and he withdrew his hand from the Professor's grasp. He seemed to be struggling to keep anger from welling up inside him. "But why?" he nearly shouted. The Professor grimaced, and Luke realized he must sound childish. The last thing he wanted right now was for Layton to see him as such. He took a deep breath and began again.

"Why not now? And if not now, when?" He tried to keep his lip from quivering.

"I don't know, Luke. Perhaps when you're no longer my student-"

"Then I'll wait. I'll wait as long as I have to, I promise!" Luke said with some amount of desperation.

For a split second, Layton's face softened. He never wanted to do anything to hurt his young friend, but he worried that giving him what he wanted would eventually hurt more than refusing him. Patting Luke on the knee, he spoke with only kindness in his voice.

"Luke, I don't even know what I was thinking when I said that. The whole idea is completely inappropriate. Despite what either of us may think or feel, you are still but a boy. You have your entire life ahead of you, and it would be wrong of me to ask you to wait until I thought we might be accepted." At this point, Layton's voice turned sad. "And…it's no secret that I am no longer a spring chicken, Luke. You would grow bored with me in no time… I'm sorry, my dear Luke…this just can't be. "

"Professor, not once since I became your apprentice have you treated me like a child. You've always thought we were equals. Don't change your mind now."

"That has nothing-"

"Please, Professor, let me finish." Luke looked so determined that Layton had to let him say his peace. "I know I'm young, but I am capable of making up my own mind. You are the one I want, Hershel. You. I honestly don't care what other people think, but I realize that having a relationship with a student could cost you your job. Professor, no one at the University would have to know." Layton inhaled as if to speak, but Luke thought he knew what the Professor was thinking, so he continued. "And if you think I could ever get bored when you're around, you're wrong."

By now, tears were flowing freely down Luke's cheeks. He took Layton's hand from his knee and pressed it to his lips. Surprised, the older man wanted to pull away, but something in his heart wouldn't let him. "I could never be get bored with you, Professor. Everyday we're together, you give me something to think about, and not just puzzles. Everyday…you give me something to dream about. You've given me the life I've always wanted, and now the only thing left that I want is you. I love you so much, Hershel."

Seeing that the Professor had also started to tear up, Luke gently took Layton's face in his hands and wiped the man's cheeks with his thumbs. Their eyes locked, and Luke pulled the Professor closer to him. Finally, their lips met. Luke released Layton's face and wrapped his arms around his neck. He happily took advantage of the fact that the Professor had not put his hat back on after dinnertime, and wound his hands in Layton's short brown hair.

The Professor responded. Seemingly forgetting his chivalrous ways, he willingly placed his hands around Luke's hips. The kiss grew more intense, and Luke licked Layton's lips in an effort to gain access to his mouth. Layton obliged, and their tongues began a fiery tussle.

Suddenly, Luke's hands were pulling on the hem of the Professor's orange sweater, and his mouth had found its way to Layton's neck, where he was sucking with enough force to leave a definite mark. As much as he was shamefully enjoying his student's ministrations, Layton knew he had to put an end to them before things got out of hand.

"Luke, Luke…" the Professor said breathlessly as he tenderly eased the boy against the back of the couch. "Luke, love, we have to stop."

"But I don't want to," Luke whispered as he reached for Layton again. The Professor caught his hands, so he settled for snuggling as close to Layton as he could. Absent mindedly, Layton wrapped his arm around Luke, as he had so many times before, and began caressing his shoulder.

"I'm still not sure about this," the Professor sighed. But the way Layton held him so tightly, the way he had called him 'love' told Luke that Layton was more sure now than ever. He tossed his arm across the Professor's stomach and nuzzled into his side. He wasn't met with any resistance.

"Whatever you say, Professor."


End file.
